


It's only your name

by AnUniverseAway



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ember Island (Avatar), Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Kissing, Like a whole fucking lot of kissing, M/M, One Shot, Romance, Sokka is a sweetheart, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 19:28:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18923542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnUniverseAway/pseuds/AnUniverseAway
Summary: It’s when Sokka kisses the soft edges of the boy’s mouth for the first time, that Sokka realises he doesn’t even know what to call the boy who’s standing so close to him. But to be honest, he doesn’t really care, he thinks as he feels the other return the kiss. He is otherwise occupied.





	It's only your name

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate Universe where the war didn't happen. Both Zuko and Sokka's family anually go on a vacation to Ember Island in the summer. That's where they meet.  
> Ozai is still a dickhead though.

They meet at the end of summer, when the sun is a bright, orange colour as it meets it´s end at the horizon. In the late afternoon the ocean is a deep blue, darker than Sokka´s eyes when they focus on the fish at his feet. His hands clutch his self-made spear, designed with the expertise of a six-year-old. It’s not at all solid, but Sokka is more than proud. His face is the definition of concentration and determination; a deep frown on his brow and tongue sticking out of his mouth.

Though, patience is something he needs to learn.

He jabs the spear into the sea too early and ends up a whole lot of inches away from the fish, which shot away, probably swimming for dear life.

With a pout on his face, Sokka goes limp and flops down in the water, which barely reaches his belly button. The wind blows softly through his tiny wolf tail and Sokka once again becomes aware of his surroundings. He looks over his shoulder, looking for his parents, but before he does, he spots a boy.

The boy sits cross-legged in the sand, holding his two small hands up creating a tiny bowl as a smouldering fire lit up from it. It is nothing compared to the way it makes Sokka’s face lit up.

He is up and running to the boy in no time and sits down on his knees with a thump, leaning forwards on his hands as he stares at him with huge blue eyes. Obviously, the sudden intrusion makes the boy jump and the fire disappears with a slight flicker.

“You can firebend.” Sokka’s amazement is not only translated through his voice, but also through his body, which practically vibrates.

“Yes,” The boy says, he looks at Sokka through his ink black strands of hair.

“I’ve heard of it before, but I’ve never seen anyone do it.”

“We do it all the time,” The boy says, not understanding how someone could never have seen what’s so natural to him.

“You have to be my friend,” Sokka states, matter of factly.

“Okay.”

"Cool!" Sokka grabs the boy’s warm hand and all but drags him to the shore. “You can watch me catch a fish!"

“Okay.”

They stand there, Sokka with a spear in his hand and his new friend watching him from a few feet away.

“You’re going to kill it if you use that.” The tone in the boy’s voice makes it clear that he isn’t fully behind the action.

“Yes, how else can I get a better look at it?” Sokka asks.

“Wait.” The boy turns on his heels and runs back to the beach. Sokka’s heart sinks as he realises his only friend of the summer is leaving him. It soon replaces with joy as the boy comes running back, now with something in his hands.

“Here, use this,” The boy says, handing over the fishnet, “That way, you get to look at the fish and the fish gets to live. That’s fair.”

“Oh,” Sokka says, intrigued by the idea that things can be solved like that. “Thank you.”

The boys try to catch as many fish as possible in the next hour but are interrupted as someone yells a name. Sokka doesn’t pay attention, but it seemed to get the other boys’.

“I have to go,” the boy says.

Sokka looks at him and then at the man standing on the beach. He doesn’t seem very nice to Sokka. “Is that your dad?”

“Yes,” he says as he turns around to go.

“Okay, bye!” Sokka says and waves at him.

“Bye,” the boy softly murmurs as he walks up back home.

\---

 “Hi! Do you remember me?” Two years later and the same brown-skinned boy comes up running to him.

“Yes,” he says, looking curiously at the girl he brought with him.

“This is my sister, Katara,” Sokka says, proudly and gives her a little nudge as a cue for her to say something.

“Hi!” she says. Her long wavy hair brushes his face as she hugs him, not at all shy.

That day, they endlessly play in the sand together. They build what is to them huge sandcastles and then pretend to be giants, ruining all what they’d made only to build the whole thing up once again.

In the afternoon however, the boy’s father comes to pick him up.

He grabs the boy by his upper arm and regards the siblings with a dismissive glance. Sokka has to comfort Katara the remaining of their time at the beach.

\--

Sokka’s parents allow him to take a friend with them as they go to the Ember Island Players the following year. The boy Sokka brings with him already knows the whole play, given its annual performance, but he still gladly goes. Through the whole play, Sokka holds his hand and he points at the decor and makes comments about the actors that make the boy laugh until his belly hurts and experience the whole play as if he’s never seen it before.

Him feeling sad when he has to go home again, is an understatement.

\--

“Tell me why they hurt you,” Sokka demands.

They are at the back of some shop of which they know the owner. Sokka’d pulled the boy inside and dropped him on the nearest chair when he saw him lying on the ground in an alley, beaten to a pulp. The owner immediately took them inside and gave them some bandage, which Sokka is pretending to know how to use. The other boy doesn’t mind, already grateful someone’s here taking care of him

“They told me they saw us holding hands together yesterday. They called me a faggot,” he answers.

Sokka’s hands stop moving as he sighs. “I know that word.”

“Me too.”

“Next time anyone calls you that, I’m going to beat them the fuck up,” Sokka says. The other boy laughs, hearing Sokka swear for the first time. They’re only ten and especially in the boy’s family, swearing is off limits.

“Thank you,” The boy says, not really knowing if he thanked Sokka for his promise or because he made him laugh. Maybe both.

Sokka takes the boy’s hand in his own and kisses it so tenderly that the word faggot is completely erased from the boy’s mind and replaced with the word love.

\--

“What does firebending feel like?”

The question comes out of the blue and the Firebender can do little more than blink for a moment. After a while, he opens his mouth.

“It’s like... All that’s inside of me, all these confusing feelings and hurt and passion and unending thoughts, I can finally show visibly.”

Sokka cocks his head to the side as a frown appears on his face. He almost looks like a lost puppy and the boy can't help but feel the light flutter in his chest.

“You mean you’re angry a lot of the time?”

The boy smiles at him and raises his hand. A small flickering light appears in his palm. It is calm, steady and warm.

“Does this seem angry to you?”

Sokka doesn’t answer. As soon as the flame fades from the boy’s hand he takes his wrist and presses a kiss to his palm.

\--

It’s when Sokka kisses the soft edges of the boy’s mouth for the first time, that Sokka realises he doesn’t even know what to call the boy who’s standing so close to him. But to be honest, he doesn’t really care, he thinks as he feels the other return the kiss. He is otherwise occupied.

\--

He’s fourteen and strolling around Ember Island's market when he finally sees the boy again. And he is absolutely shocked. Half of the beautiful, silky soft edges of his face is replaced by an angry red and scalded skin. For a second, he can’t breathe as his heart hammers in his chest.

He stops in the middle of the crowd that walks past him, like a rock in the middle of a stream. The boy is standing at some stall they both now he doesn’t care about and then their eyes meet. The boy immediately looks away, but Sokka isn’t having any of it.

He paces towards him, grabs his wrist and drags him into an alley the way he dragged him into the sea the day they met.

“What the hell happened?” he asks, stupidly angry. He doesn’t ask who caused it. He knows.

“Why the hell do you care?” the boy asks with a sneer. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”

He’s right. He’s absolutely right, though Sokka can’t ignore the ache in his heart.

He raises his hand cupping the boys chin and strokes his thumb over his jaw.

“I’m so sorry,” he softly whispers. His eyes sting with the threat of tears and he is unaware of how beautifully the water in his eyes match the blue tone. It’s truly like looking at the surface of the ocean, the boy thinks as he grabs hands full of Sokka’s shirt and drags his lips to the place he knows they belong.

Later, he knows, his father is going to ask why the back of his shirt looks like it’s been rubbed against the wall. But right now, with the intoxicating smell of Sokka filling up his senses and the taste of his tongue, he couldn’t care less.

\---

His shoulders hurt, his head feels dizzy and he is pretty sure there’s a huge amount of sand up his ass.

“This really isn’t very comfortable,” he manages to say in between the kisses.

“Shut _up_ ,” Sokka says, as he once again attacks the other boy’s mouth. He tugs at the boys’ top, not really trying all his best to get it off of him, making it a game. This summer, it’s Sokka’s personal mission to drive the boy absolutely insane in every sense of the word, including with want.

“Get it off already, you shithead,” The boy grumbles as he grabs his shirt, making work of it himself. Once he's removed the piece of clothing, he throws it at the dune next to them.

“Hmm, I see you do a pretty good job of that yourself,” Sokka teases. As soon as the shirt is removed, he licks a stripe up from the base of his shoulder to behind his ear and feels the boy shudder. “Really,” he whispers directly in his ear. “You’re too easy.”

The boy actually _whimpers_ , and Sokka’s decided that it’s time for his mission to change into ‘draw more of those sounds out of that gorgeous mouth’.

After, Sokka lays on the boy’s chest, lazily drawing nothingness on his arm with his fingertips. Every now and then he feels the boy shiver. He, in return, drags his fingers along Sokka’s spine, making him completely limp, melting in his arms.

“It really does feel kind of weird, laying here bare ass in the open sky.” The boy laughs, and Sokka hears the deep rumble of it in his ears as it rests on his chest. Sokka probs up his head and chucks his chin up to look at the boy, a question in his eyes.

“What?” The boy asks, a smirk on his lips.

“I’ve known you for about,” he halts as he counts the years in his head, “Nine years now and I don’t even know your name.”

“Do you always ask someone about their names _after_ you've fucked their brains out? Seems a bit rude.”

Sokka laughs, feeling completely giddy and just all together fucking fantastic.

“My name i-“

“No!” Sokka covers the other boy’s mouth with his hand. An amused eyebrow shoots up as he looks over at Sokka. “Don’t tell me.”

The boy slowly nods and Sokka removes his hand. If the other boy’s feels a slight pain in his chest, he doesn’t mention it.

\--

The summer that they’re both sixteen, they take every opportunity they have to get their hands on each other. Lucky for them, Ember Island isn’t very populated, providing lots of spots where they can be alone.

The horny part of Sokka’s brain delights in the part where they touch each other, find out what makes the other moan, groan, whimper, writhe with impatience and even shout in the other boy’s case, which makes Sokka thank the heavens for the thundering sound of the waterfall they’re currently at. At least nobody else could hear them.

The romantic part of Sokka’s brain finds absolute bliss in the moments after, when they lay together to breathe each other in.

“Do you remember when I asked you what firebending felt like?”

“Yes.”

“You said that it’s like the visualisation of your passion.”

“I remember.”

“I think I felt what firebending is like, then.”

The other boy laughs. “I hate to disappoint you, but if firebending felt this great I wouldn’t be also training around with dual swords.”

Sokka looks up at him. “I’m so good that I surpass firebending?”

“Get that stupid smug grin off your face,” the boy says and kisses him to do so himself.

\--

Sokka doesn’t see the boy in two years. Two full years and when he finally sees him again at the beach late at night when the summer is almost over, he realises that the boy didn’t want him to.

“Why are you avoiding me?” Sokka asks the boy, hurt and anger evident in his voice. “I thought we were friends.”

He hears the boy scoff and he doesn’t like it one bit. “Friends?” He hears him say.

This is why he didn't want anything to do with Sokka, the boy thinks.

Because how dare he, making him feel this way, only to disappear for a whole year, time and time again? As if the butterflies Sokka gave him, would be temporary. As if he could let go of him so easily. No, the boy thinks. I can't accept him to waltz back into my life only whenever he feels like it.

“How can I be your friend? You don’t even know my name! No, scratch that. You don't even _want_ to know my name. ”

“It’s only your name!” Sokka shouts, the adrenaline taking its toll.

Sokka’s never seen the boy more confused. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I know every single thing about you,” Sokka says. “I know you like the beach and the ocean because it reminds you of all the possibilities out there. I know you like all the fruits they have here on the market, except for mango’s, because you find the structure weird or some shit like that. I know your father is one big asshat, who doesn’t deserve your love, even though you would move mountains to get only the slightest bit of recognition from him. I know your laugh is the most heavenly sound on this earth and I never want a day to pass by without hearing it, grabbing every chance I get to hear it again. I know you didn’t use a spear as a kid to catch fish because you thought even the smallest forms of life deserved living.”

Sokka is almost out of breath.

“I don’t know your name. Simply because I think it doesn’t define you.” His voice becomes too heavy with emotion. He shrugs .“It’s only your name.”

The boy stares at him with wide eyes. And here he thought Sokka was clumsy with words.

“I love you,” the boy breathes out.

The words don’t shock Sokka. They don’t catch him off guard. He knows. He’s known since the day they met at the beach when all was covered in an orange glow. The words are simply spoken now, and he couldn’t be happier, because this, _this_ is what he’s been waiting for.

Instead of replying he takes the last steps to close the distance between them and kisses the boy’s lips with a heart-breaking tenderness.

“What’s your name?” the question is barely a whisper and Sokka is surprised the boy actually hears it.

“Zuko.”

Sokka takes Zuko’s face in both of his palms and strokes the tears away.

Sokka kisses him again, salt faint on his lips. He doesn't say 'I love you' back. Instead, he whispers softly against his mouth, "Zuko".

It doesn't matter, Zuko thinks, as he feels Sokka's palm against the small of his back, warm and secure. It means the same thing anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> I just *slams fist on the table* love this duo so much.  
> Please, let me know what you think, 'cause I snort feedback up like it's cocaine.


End file.
